The Edge
by Everlane
Summary: It all seemed frightening, shooting up so high that her head might lie with the clouds. But she liked to think that her toddler self somehow sensed the dangers of growing up in ruins. A terrifying raid morphs into a love triangle between three utterly powerful individuals.
1. Author's Note

**Important Author's Note**

_So._ I gave this to my mother to read and she hated it, because it was freaking dark and couldn't understand how I wrote like that. I'm not upset or anything, because I liked the fact that she pointed out that almost every piece I write is just so grim.

Honestly. I kind of like my dark pieces, and enjoy the challenge of keeping characters the way they are in different settings. I'm never going to be great in other types of pieces, but I can definitely try to branch out like my mother suggests. I'm always going to improve my way of writing by trying to fill the story with more context and getting straight to the point. And I'm sure there are more ways I need to improve too.

So please, feel free to add any concerns or criticisms you have because I do appreciate them. I might not be an author. I don't think I ever will, but I do love writing and seeing what others think of them.

This is my first time writing a hardcore alternate universe with another pairing. I'm not asking for you guys to be lenient at all though. This is a story made up of ten to twenty chapters. The first chapter is intentionally short and crisp. I had this story on my other, now empty, profile and wanted to use it for another pairing in another fandom. But I decided that I wanted to use this for this fandom, so I deleted that other one and left that profile bare.

It has slight changes, but still has the same basic plot line. This won't be updated for a while, because I have other stories I want to update before this one. This is dedicated to **Beebeeborez**, who actually gave me the incentive to write about this pairing. I still am working on _There's Gold In Every Moment_, so don't worry, I will update for that one and the others.

I'm mostly a pantser, so I just had to get this one out of my mind. I don't own Glee by the way, so before you move to the prologue, remember that these characters aren't mine with the exception of some original ones and the plot of this story.

Hope you guys enjoy.


	2. Prologue

**The Nymphs**

Decades ago, she saw them leap over granite, nimble feet barely touching large boulders bracing the docks. They moved briskly, blindly clasping one another if any of them slipped, with steps synchronized and eyes highly alert. Bodies frail and agile, the older girls were the nymphs in the ancient folk tales of the abandoned library she often read in before she scurried home in the dead of night.

She clutched her father's shoulders, leaning down to place her chin over his hair. He chuckled for a second, patting her thighs before speaking in his smoker's tongue. "Well, what do ya know."

The child nodded, wide eyes animatedly following the thieves who now ran on what was left of Foreth's Boardwalk. "What do you say, Rache? We help out or leave 'em?"

"Help." she quipped in a shy voice.

"Why?" His hair fluttered in the the slight breeze, but not enough to make her nose itch. "Why can't we just leave those girls and mind our own businesses?" Pale fingers lightly scratched the child's feet, that were both covered with her mother's handmade socks.

A giggle left her lips. "We help our own."

"And who's our own?"

She thought for a second, then spread her arms wide, swaying slightly to her father's brisk steps. _Everybody. _She was three and didn't know any better. A tiny kid with long legs, bound to shoot up anytime soon like her neighbors predicted. It all seemed frightening, shooting up so high that her head might lie with the clouds. But she liked to think that her toddler self somehow sensed the dangers of growing up in ruins.

Rachel Berry never shot up like others thought she would, but gradually acknowledged that the conditions she lived in weren't ideal for a child. Those girls her father saved on the boardwalk were more than thieves. She knew this because they watched her eat as they spoke in Hispan the minute her father left her with them in the kitchen.

"Now what?" The other girl with dark hair asked, loud enough for her tiny self to hear. "Do we kill them, with the baby?"

The blonde in baggy clothing gazed at her, her eyes ringed with dark bags as they narrowed. Rachel knew she was considering it, but the girl said, "Not this house. They don't have much to steal."

The girls stopped speaking, continuing to eat the porridge they were given. Rachel spent the rest of her dinner unable to finish her plate. She was almost a baby, but knew that the girls who ate, the ones she later learned were the eyes and ears of the regime, came close to slaughtering her family. They spoke the murderer's language, the 13th jargon, which only meant that the baggy clothes they wore were the only ones on their back.

Child soldiers dressed that way.


End file.
